


Hard Times ( Get Easier )

by noyacchis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers Family, Dead Aunt May, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, and he knows it and is trying to fix it, how do you tag things???, i needed me some father/son interactions, steve was wrong in civil war, thats not the focus of the fic though, title may change later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 19:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14625453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noyacchis/pseuds/noyacchis
Summary: Peter Parker gets onto Tony’s radar the first time Spiderman goes viral on Youtube. Even if the video of the swinging masked guy in a red hoodie hadn’t gone viral, Friday still would have picked it up, as Tony has her always running scans of the news and media for signs of new Enhanced individuals.Four months after Tony starts keeping tabs on the web-slinger, four months after he discovers the identity of one Peter Parker, student at Midtown Tech and resident of Queens, he calls on the kid for help in the attempt to stop Cap from getting out of Germany.Two months after the kid surprises him by refusing to join the Avengers, the unthinkable happens: his aunt is killed in a car accident. Left with no other living relatives, Peter faces entry into the foster care system, but Tony can't allow that to happen. He wishes he could say it's just because he needs to keep an eye on Spiderman, but he knows the truth: he's grown to care about the kid.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> hello all!! i saw infinity war and immediately had to fix everything -- and my version of fixing everything is apparently writing an irondad/spideyson fic with some ironstrange on the side because i am Weak
> 
> this is my first time writing fic in a loooong time, and my first time ever writing an actual fic for the marvel fandom! i wont spend too long on these initial notes, so i hope you enjoy!!

Peter Parker gets onto Tony’s radar the first time Spiderman goes viral on Youtube. Even if the video of the swinging masked guy in a red hoodie hadn’t gone viral, Friday still would have picked it up, as Tony has her always running scans of the news and media for signs of new Enhanced individuals.

Four months after Tony starts keeping tabs on the web-slinger, four months after he discovers the identity of one Peter Parker, student at Midtown Tech and resident of Queens, he calls on the kid for help in the attempt to stop Cap from getting out of Germany.

He still isn’t certain that taking a minor into battle was the best plan, but he reassures himself that it’s better to have Peter under his watch in a safe, Stark-designed suit that he can monitor and track. It’s better that Parker’s watched over, to make sure he stays safe. It’s like a cool parent letting their kid drink -- it’s better that they do it in the house, under close supervision, than go out and get themselves shitfaced at house parties or bars or clubs.

Too bad this kid is _determined_ to seemingly ignore Tony’s every instruction and go out to the parties anyway. It makes him lose sleep at night, though there’s a long list of things that do that. With the threat of the vulture guy, though, Peter’s definitely up there. It’s what leads Tony to take away his suit, to ground him for good. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something happened to the kid when Tony’s the one who put him in the line of fire in the first place.

The kid surprises him, though. He saves Tony a heck of a lot of trouble and money by unearthing a plan to attack the plane on moving day, and he manages to take down the vulture dude in his own homemade suit and come out of it with nothing more than a hell of a lot of bumps and bruises.

Then he surprises him _again_ by denying his offer to join the Avengers, and Tony can’t help but feel a weird sense of pride as he watches Peter leave the compound. He continues keeping an eye on Peter after that, of course, making sure the tracker is reinstalled in his suit and wanting to prevent anything like the Vulture incident from ever happening again.

Two months later, though, an incident that Tony had never even considered happened, and Peter’s aunt was caught in a bad crash, leaving the kid without a legal guardian and at risk of being put into the foster system. Even disregarding the weird sort of fondness he’d started developing for the kid, Tony knew he couldn’t let that happen -- Spiderman couldn’t go into the foster system. He was on his way to the hospital less than a minute after hearing the news of the accident.

 

* * *

 

“Peter Parker?” The voice on the phone is unfamiliar, and Peter’s brows furrow. He hadn’t recognized the number before picking it up, and he struggles to figure out why this stranger would be calling him and how they know his name.

“Yes?” He replies warily, walking out of school with Ned, who’s completely focused on something on his phone.

“My name is Dr. Christine Palmer, at Metro-General Hospital. I’m sorry to inform you that your aunt was in a car accident. We performed emergency surgery as soon as she arrived, but she didn’t make it. I’m terribly sorry, Peter.”

The woman actually does sound contrite, but Peter has stopped walking. “I-what?”

“Your aunt didn’t make it, Peter. I’m sorry. If you’d like, we can send a car out to get you-”

“No, I’ll--I’ll be there soon,” Peter says, not fully registering his own words. By now Ned has turned around and is looking at him in concern, clearly able to tell that something’s wrong.

“Peter? What’s-”

“I have to go,” is all Peter says before he runs past Ned, sprinting out the door of the school and down the steps. He ducks into an alley halfway down the street and pulls the small device he can now use to put his suit on ( _thanks, Mr. Stark_ ) out of his backpack and puts it on his wrist, pressing the button and watching as his suit materializes over his clothes. It’s a little bulkier than usual, but that’s hardly his priority as he swings his backpack over his shoulders and webs to a fire escape and pulls himself away. He reaches the hospital in less than five minutes, getting out of his costume and stowing the bracelet thing in his backpack again before running out of the alley and in through the emergency entrance.

“I’m Peter Parker,” he tells the receptionist. “I got a call. My Aunt May is here?”

The receptionist nods and types something into her computer, and the way her eyes widen and fill with pity as she looks back to Peter isn’t at all encouraging. The words of the lady on the phone still haven’t fully sunk in yet, but they nag in the back of his mind as the lady gives him directions.

As soon as he steps through the doors behind the desk, a woman in scrubs approaches him. “Peter Parker?” she asks, and he recognizes the voice instantly as the woman from the phone. He can’t remember her name.

“I’m Doctor Christine Palmer,” she says when he nods, holding out a hand to shake his. “I’m so sorry, but we couldn’t save your aunt. She arrived in critical condition already and we performed an emergency surgery, but the damage was too severe. She passed away about half an hour into the surgery. We weren’t able to pull up your information until just after. I’m so sorry.”

Peter can’t respond, can’t fully process everything the doctor just told him. He stands there with his mouth gaping open, his eyes wide as they stare at the doctor, who’s shorter than him by several inches. “Can...can I see her?” He asks, and though Dr. Palmer still looks pitying and concerned, she nods and begins leading him back through the hospital.

Peter’s phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out and sees Happy’s name on the screen. “I uh...I need to take this,” he says idly as he answers the call and brings the phone up to his face. “Hello?”

“Why are you at the hospital? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

“My...my aunt was in an accident. She’s….” Peter finds that he can’t finish the sentence, and tears well up in his eyes for the first time since he heard the news. “She…” he trails off again, but Happy seems to get it.

“Oh my god,” Happy says. “Hang tight kid. We’ll be right there.” The call ends, but it takes Peter a few seconds to realize it and lower the phone from his face. Dr. Palmer is still standing there, watching him with that same sad, guilty pity on her face.

He follows her further into the hospital until she brings him to a room with a closed door and a manila folder in a clear holder next to it. “Are you sure about this, Peter?” Dr. Palmer asks, but Peter is already opening the door and entering the room.

The sight of May lying so still on the bed is too much, and he stumbles forward until he’s kneeling next to it, his hand finding hers. He flinches away when he feels how cold she already is, and he can’t hold back his sobs anymore. He bows his head over his aunt’s unmoving body and cries.

 

* * *

 

Tony Stark arrives through the same entrance Peter did, leaving Happy to park the car. He’d nearly come in the Iron Man suit, but since he and Happy had only been a few blocks away at an SI meeting, he took the car with Happy instead.

Happy had come up behind him in the meeting, and Tony hadn’t even paused in flipping his pen around his fingers as he leaned back to listen to whatever Happy leaned down to whisper to him. “The kid’s at the hospital,” were the first words out of his bodyguard’s mouth, and they caused Tony’s pen to clatter down on the table. “He’s not hurt, but his aunt was in a bad wreck. I think she might have died.”

Tony stood immediately, knowing Pepper had heard everything as well from her spot next to him. “So sorry boys, but I’ll need to duck out. There’s an emergency that needs my attention,” he said, buttoning his blazer. “Ms. Potts can handle everything from here, I’m sure,” he gave Pepper a pat on the shoulder and Happy a nod before walking out, ignoring the protests from the idiots at the table behind him.

Now he bursts in the door, trying his hardest not to glare at the receptionist just yet. If she tries to keep him from seeing Peter, _then_ he’ll give her his best glare.

“Where’s Peter Parker?” He asks, leaning forward slightly on her desk.

“I-I….A-are you family?” She stutters, and Tony respects her for doing her job, despite being faced with the most powerful man in the city.

He lets his expression soften as he removes his red sunglasses and makes eye contact with her, showing her how sincere and serious he is, even as he completely avoids her question. “I’m Tony Stark,” he says, completely unnecessarily. “If you don’t tell me where he is, I’ll just go in there and find him myself. I care about the kid, and I need to make sure he’s alright.”

She blinks at him for a moment, and he has to admire her resolve, as she’s clearly debating whether or not it’s wise to say no to Tony Stark. After a moment, she makes the right choice. “Through the doors behind me, room 124,” she says, though she still looks doubtful.

“Thank you. What’s your name?”

“Susan,” she says, blinking in surprise.

“Thank you, Susan. I’ll donate some money and dictate that it all goes to you,” he calls as he walks past the desk and through the doors she indicated.

He follows the signs toward room 124, and finds a female doctor in scrubs talking to a tall woman in a pantsuit. Immediately Tony gets a bad vibe from the tall woman, like she’s projecting a nice, caring image but actually doesn’t care about anything or anyone but herself.

“M-Mr. Stark,” the doctor stutters. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I happen to have a bit of personal and professional interest in Mr. Parker. Who are you?” He asks the tall woman bluntly.

“I’m Irene Johnson, a social worker. Since Ms. Parker was Peter’s last living relative, he’ll need to be put into the foster system-”

“Ah, that explains it,” Tony says, cutting her off. He’s referring to the selfish, fake air about the woman, but he doesn’t bother to explain that to either of the women standing before him. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of Peter.”

“Mr. Stark, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to do that,” Irene Johnson splutters. “There is a system in place for these situations, and you cannot just bypass-”

“Actually, I can and I will,” Tony says, his expression hardening as he levels a glare at the woman. “Peter will not go into the foster system, or anywhere near anything that you have something to do with. If you don’t like it you can bring it up with my lawyers, but I’ll warn you that I have some of the best in the world.”

“Mr. Stark-”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see Peter,” Tony finishes, not even letting Irene get a word in edgewise. As he walks past her, however, she has the audacity to grab his wrist and try to stop him. He freezes in place, the watch just below her hand ready to turn into the gauntlet hidden within it at the slightest thought from him.

“Ms. Johnson, if you know what’s good for you you’ll let me go in the next three seconds,” Tony says without turning around. He won’t activate the gauntlet here, but its presence alone is comforting. But he can handle this without resorting to using Iron Man. “I could have your entire division, the whole department you work for, defunded with a wave of my hand. I could have you fired with barely more than a _thought_. I suggest you let me go and leave me and Peter alone.”

For the first time since his arrival, Irene does the smart thing and releases him, taking a couple steps backwards. She glares at him for another few seconds before spinning around and marching away, disappearing around the corner around which Tony had just come. He looks around to the doctor, straightening his suit jacket. “Sorry you had to witness that, doc,” he says. “Do you know anything about how he’s been doing? Or what happened with his aunt?” He asks, tilting his head toward the door behind him to indicate he was talking about Peter.

“Oh, no, it’s, uh...it’s fine,” she says, seeming to shake herself out of some kind of trance. “I’m Dr. Christine Palmer. I’m one of the ones who operated on Ms. Parker. I’m...terribly sorry that we couldn’t save her,” she says, looking down at her feet, and Tony can tell that she truly means what she says. He places a placating hand on her shoulder, giving it one awkward pat before removing it quickly.

“I’m sure you did whatever you could,” he says. “It isn’t your fault.”

She looks up and nods as he takes his hand away, and she steps past Tony to grab the file labeled with May’s name out of the holder by the door. She flips it open and reads aloud, her voice professional and crisp. “Arrived at 1:56 pm with a serious head injury, several broken ribs, a broken wrist, and a shattered leg. Left lung was punctured by one of the broken ribs. Surgery commenced at 2:03 pm to relieve pressure on lungs, heart, and brain. High amounts of stress on body led to the heart stopping. After several attempts at revival, time of death was declared at 2:38 pm.” She looks up from the report, and Tony knows his face is pale. “During the surgery, other nurses were looking up her information and working with the police to figure out her next of kin so we could contact them. We weren’t able to get a hold of Peter until…” she looks back down at the file in front of her. “2:48 pm. He arrived here at 2:53 and received a call on the way back to see her.” Dr. Palmer looks up again, raising an eyebrow at Tony. “I presume that was you.”

Tony can only nod. “Has he been in there since then?” He asks, checking his watch. It’s almost 3:20 now -- he spent longer than he thought speaking with the receptionist and social worker.

Dr. Palmer nods. “Ms. Johnson tried going in to talk to him, but she reported that he yelled and threw something at her, so she left.”

“That doesn’t sound like Peter,” Tony says, his eyebrows furrowing even further than they had already.

“Grief and shock can manifest in strange ways,” Dr. Palmer replies sadly. “Do you want to go in and see him?”

Tony nods, stepping past the doctor to open the door and step inside the room. He’d spent the last ten minutes mentally preparing himself for it, but the sight that greets him still manages to tug at his heartstrings and send a pang of sadness through him. Peter is lying across his aunt’s body, trembling from head to toe as small noises escape him every couple of seconds. Tony takes a deep breath, trying not to let the sound of the boy’s whimpers and broken sobs get to him as he crosses the room to where Peter kneels over his aunt.

“Hey, Pete, come on,” he says, resting a hand on Peter’s back. “Come on, we’ve gotta go.”

Peter looks around, his eyes and face red and puffy as he sniffles. “M-Mr. Stark?”

“Yup. Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, placing one hand on Peter’s shoulder and using the other to continue holding his back, keeping him steady as he pulls the teenager to his feet.

“Where are we going? I won’t go to some stranger’s house. Or an orphanage,” Peter says, his teary eyes and shaking voice suddenly full of resolve.

“No kid, I won’t let that happen. You’re gonna come stay with me,” Tony says, wrapping an arm around Peter as they walk towards the door. He bends down a bit to pick up the teen’s discarded backpack, slinging it over his own shoulder. When they reach the door, Peter turns around to look at his aunt’s prone form again, and Tony waits for Peter to turn back around before he opens the door.

When they leave the room, Tony scans the hallway and finds Happy heading for them, and recognizes Dr. Palmer near the nurse’s station talking to another doctor -- who Tony is surprised to also recognize. He squeezes Peter’s shoulder before turning to the kid, feeling Happy take the backpack off his shoulder as he does so. “Go with Happy, alright, kid? I’m gonna talk to the doctors for a minute, but I’ll catch up.”

Peter only nods and follows Happy down the hall and out of sight. When Tony turns back to the nurse’s station, he finds Dr. Palmer gone, and the other doctor already heading towards him. “Dr. Strange,” he says, pulling his red tinted sunglasses from an inner jacket pocket and putting them on, the motion familiar and comforting.

“Dr. Stark,” the taller man says. He’d always been one of the few people to consistently remember that Tony has several PhD’s himself, though he’s powerful enough otherwise that he doesn’t usually bother correcting people on it. “I heard from Christine that you’re taking responsibility for the Parker boy.”

“That’s right, I am,” Tony replies, tilting his chin up in a challenge for Stephen to try to fight him on it, but the other man doesn’t say anything against it, just reaches over Tony’s shoulder for May’s file. He opens it and looks over the front page as his colleague had.

“I won’t ask how the most powerful man in New York knows an orphan boy from Queens, or why he cares so much that he’d take him in,” Stephen says. “Because I know you won’t tell me.”

“Were you operating on May?” Tony asks, ignoring the quip.

“No,” Strange replies, looking back down at the file.

“Maybe you should have been,” Tony says, shouldering past the taller man and walking down the hall. “Remember we have an appointment next week, Doc. Don’t be late.” he calls without turning around.

And Tony follows Peter out, telling FRIDAY quietly to reschedule everything for the rest of the day, and to send an update text to Pepper.

 

* * *

 

Aunt May is dead.

Peter can’t wrap his head around it. He can’t fully register it, doesn’t even feel the pain of what are apparently three cracked ribs and various other wounds. Hell, he doesn’t even know where he is right now. He can’t find it in him to really care.

He stares at the wall across from the bed he sits on for ten minutes before he registers that it’s covered in newspaper clippings, and it takes another five before he realizes they’re all about him. _SPIDERMAN FACES BANK ROBBERS, SAVES DELI OWNER. SPIDERMAN FILMED SAVING A BUS OF CIVILIANS FROM POTENTIALLY FATAL CRASH. MIDTOWN TECH STUDENTS RESCUED BY SPIDERMAN IN WASHINGTON, DC._ There are even a couple about him as Peter, which faintly surprises him: _MIDTOWN TECH CELEBRATED FOR WINNING NATIONAL ACADEMIC TOURNAMENT._ _PETER PARKER, 15, HONORED BY STARK INDUSTRIES FOR CODING AND ROBOTICS ACHIEVEMENTS._

He finally looks around the rest of the room, dimly taking it in. Against the wall with all the newspapers is a desk with what looks like the latest in Stark tech on it, as well as a box of wires and metal -- Peter thinks it looks like the kind of things he used to build in his spare time. There’s a piece of paper lying on top, but Peter can’t find the energy to get up and read it.

The wall to his left has a bookshelf pushed against it, half-filled with what seems to be various science texts: Peter recognizes a few coding and robotics manuals he’s used in the past. He sees another piece of paper lying on an empty part of the shelf, but again doesn’t bother getting up. Next to the bookshelf is a closed door, and Peter doesn’t know or care where it leads. Maybe a bathroom. Maybe another dimension. It doesn’t really matter now.

To his right is a walk-in closet, and floor-to-ceiling windows cover the wall behind the bed he’s on. The sound of the door opening has him turning again, and he sees Tony Stark standing in the doorway. “Hey, kid,” he says, and his voice sounds as empty as Peter feels. “How do you like your new room?” He asks, with a clear mustering of emotion in his voice this time.

Peter glances around again, but doesn’t know how to respond. He’s just decided that maybe he should shrug or something when Tony sighs and steps into the room, clicking the door closed behind him. “I’m sorry, Pete.”

Peter’s expression finally changes, contorting into a grief-stricken, angry scowl as he shakes his head, the motion getting faster and faster before he puts his head in his hands, his shoulders trembling. “I-It’s a-all my f-f-fault,” he chokes out, and Tony can tell that he’s either trying to hold back tears or already succumbed to them.

“Kid, no,” Tony says, moving to sit on the bed next to Peter. He doesn’t know the protocol for how to deal with a grieving teenager; he doesn’t even know how to deal with emotions himself, let alone in others. But he lets his concern for Peter win out and move him on autopilot, and he places a hand on the teen’s back. Peter doesn’t move, still leaning forward with his head in his hands, and Tony rubs his back gently, feeling rather awkward. Still, he presses on. “What happened is not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault but the stupid drunk driver who’s already been arrested.”

“I’ve stopped sixteen car accidents since I got the suit. Karen counted. I stopped at least ten others before I got it. Why was I there to stop twenty-six when I wasn’t there to stop a twenty-seventh?” Peter asks, dropping his hands to glance to the side, and Tony can see the bitterness and pain in his eyes even from this angle. He wants nothing more than to wipe them away, to see this kid smiling and babbling away again.

“FRIDAY, how many car accidents occur on average weekly in the five boroughs?” Tony asks the room without taking his eyes off Peter.

“An average of ten accidents a day occur across the city, with up to eighty occuring in a week.”

“And how many accident-related deaths?”

“An average of three people die a day in traffic accidents, with up to forty-eight getting injured.”

Tony pauses for a moment to let the statistics sink in, and he can already sense Peter thinking through it before he speaks -- the kid’s a bit of a genius, after all. “You see? There’s no way you alone could stop every single wreck in the city. You can’t expect that much of yourself. You’re just one person.”

Peter’s quiet for a moment before he releases a shaky sigh and sits up, leaning into Tony’s side without even seeming to think about it. Tony adjusts his arm, blinking and trying in vain to keep the surprise off his face, though he knows Peter can’t see his expression. “She’s still gone,” he finally says quietly, his voice barely more than a murmur. “I don’t have anyone left.”

“You have me,” Tony says automatically, and though he surprises himself with the statement, he doesn’t regret it or make any move to take it back. “And you’re going to stay here in the compound with me.”

Tony feels rather than sees Peter’s head nod, his cheek shifting slightly where it’s leaning on Tony’s shoulder. They sit in silence for a few minutes, Tony looking at the news clippings he’s been putting up on this wall since before he offered the place to Peter initially -- every time he noticed Peter being acknowledged, every time he or Spiderman was featured in the news, Tony went to the effort of getting an actual newspaper version of it and clipping it out before putting it up here, for Peter to maybe never see. He’s always thought it was important that the kid have _somewhere_ for all of his achievements to be recognized. Even if most of the world will never know the identity of Spiderman, Tony will always see him.

It takes him a moment to realize that Peter’s fallen asleep, his shoulders relaxed and his breathing even. Tony lets out a soft sigh of his own, and he may or may not gently press his lips to the top of the kid’s head before he moves, gently moving his other arm underneath Peter’s knees as he stands up, bringing the kid with him. Peter shifts a bit, his eyelids fluttering, and Tony shushes him. “Bedtime,” he says, laying the lean, lanky body down on the pillow and watching as Peter turns onto his side and curls up, grabbing one of the spare pillows and tugging it to his chest sleepily.

Tony steps in the closet to get a spare blanket -- he can’t exactly pull down the covers with Peter laying on them -- and he covers the teenager with it carefully, spending maybe a little too long arranging it and smoothing it down before he straightens up and steps away, moving to the door and turning out the light as he leaves, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Keep an eye on him, FRIDAY,” he says to the closed door once he’s standing in the hall.

“Already on it, Boss.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhhhh my god you guys. YOU GUYS. i cannot believe how much love this story has gotten and it's only been two days!! as of me posting this, there are 199 kudos, over 1700 hits, and 48 bookmarks!! im so!! happy!!!!!!! honestly ive totally been refreshing this story every time i check my phone or computer just to see the numbers go up because like?? it's so exciting?? people are actually reading and liking this and im just!! so amazed! thank you guys so so so much for the support, it really means a lot to me!!
> 
> also, i now have a wonderful beta reader! [Danwithaplan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danwithaplan) is an amazing and beautiful friend of mine and has agreeed to beta read this fic for me!
> 
> breathes. okay, here's the chapter! hope you're ready for your teeth to rot because hoo boy. this is a fluffy one.

Peter wakes instantly -- he goes from asleep to awake more suddenly than his mind can process, and he sits up quickly, looking around the unfamiliar room as his brain whirls to try and remember where he is. It only takes a few seconds for him to remember what happened, to remember Mr. Stark bringing him to the Avengers compound upstate. The memory of yesterday, of Aunt May’s cold body underneath him, has him slumping back down against the pillows, curling in on himself and clutching at his head as if he can drag the horrible memories out. 

There’s a vaguely female voice speaking, but he can’t register it, can’t pull himself out of his own head long enough to listen or respond. After a few minutes ( or maybe it’s hours, or days -- time doesn’t really matter much anymore, does it? ) he feels a hand on his back, and he flinches and spins around, his hands coming up automatically to defend himself. 

“Whoa, whoa, kid, chill, it’s me,” Mr. Stark says, grabbing Peter’s wrists before he can do anything. “It’s okay. You’re safe, you’re okay,” he says, guiding Peter’s wrists back down as Peter processes that yes, this is really Tony Stark sitting next to him on this strange, soft bed. 

“M-Mr. St-Stark?” 

“Yeah, it’s me, kid. You’re alright.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” Peter whispers, the final hope he’d been holding onto as he tried in vain to fall back asleep, to try to get himself out of what must be a weird lucid dream, fading before his eyes as he realizes that Tony Stark is really here, really holding onto him, and that his bed has never been this big or soft. 

Tony’s expression morphs into a sad one, though with tension -- like he’s trying to keep a brave face even while emotions crash through him. Peter dimly wonders what it is  _ he  _ has to be sad about, but he doesn’t give it much thought. His own wounds are too fresh to worry about others, even Mr. Stark. “No, kid, I’m sorry. It wasn’t a dream, but I wish it was. I wish you weren’t going through this.”

And with those words, Tony pulls Peter into his chest in a hug, one arm wrapping around the teen’s back while the other hand cradles the back of his head. Under normal circumstances, Peter would think more about this, about how he doesn’t even think this is the first time Mr. Stark has hugged him in the last day and about what that might mean for them --  _ are they there, now?  _ \-- but he doesn’t even think about it. He just melts into the embrace, wrapping both arms around Tony’s waist and pressing his ear against his chest next to the arc reactor, the dim blue light shining on Peter’s face through Tony’s shirt as Peter listens to the steady beat of the man’s heart. 

After it becomes clear that Peter is gradually relaxing and slipping back into sleep, Tony shifts, causing Peter’s eyes to blink blearily open as he automatically moves away. Tony holds onto him, though, murmuring quietly as he moves fully onto the bed and reclines back on the pillows. “Shh, it’s okay, just getting comfortable,” he says, a gentle hand guiding Peter’s head back to his chest. 

“Wha’ time is it?” Peter slurs, realizing for the first time that the room is definitely much darker than it was before and wondering just how long he’d been asleep. What time had he even gotten here? He doesn’t remember much, having been lost in his own grief while Happy and Tony escorted him from the hospital. 

“Late,” Tony says. “Go back to sleep, kiddo.” And honestly, with the tiny hum of the arc reactor and Tony’s heartbeat providing soothing white noise, Peter finds that he can’t really argue with whatever logic Tony seems to be presenting. He lets his eyes close, and within minutes Tony’s heartbeat and steady hand running through Peter’s hair have lulled him off to sleep. 

Tony stays awake above him, his hands still idly stroking Peter’s hair and back as he thinks about his options from here. Obviously he’s going to take Peter in -- the only thing Peter’s seemed entirely certain about since Tony found him in that hospital room was that he didn’t want to go with the social worker, and Tony could agree with him there. There’s no way in hell Tony would let Peter be put into any sort of government-run system, or anywhere near that woman he met at the hospital. 

That means that Tony will take him in -- he can probably get his lawyers to pull up some guardianship paperwork and jump through all the hoops for him. He’ll sign whatever he needs to in order to get Peter safely in his custody, and if anyone tries to fight him on it then he’ll ruin them in whatever way he can. 

That still leaves the issue of Peter’s identity, though -- Tony has already assured the Accords Council that he’s keeping a close eye on Spiderman, and they know that Spiderman is a minor and that his guardian knows about his superhero antics. There’s an amendment to the Accords in the works already concerning Enhanced minors. It will require that minors with any sort of Enhanced abilities who wish to do the kinds of things that Peter does will have to have an adult mentor who has signed the Accords. Basically, it will lay down some official rules based on the precedent Tony and Peter have already been setting for months.

But will the Council need to know that Tony’s officially taking guardianship of Spiderman? He refused to give the Council Peter’s identity after Germany, so Tony can still count on one hand the number of people who know -- himself, Ned, May, and Happy. And with Peter here now and about to become a much bigger part of Tony’s life, he knows he won’t be able to keep his identity secret from the rest of the Avengers, but he can trust them, who understand the personal stakes of being a hero. The Council, on the other hand, he doesn’t at all trust with anything concerning Peter, which is the main reason why he took such a hard stance on dictating the contents of the amendment about minors -- he didn’t want to give the Council any way to get to Peter without going through him first, and he’s sure he succeeded. 

No, he concludes, the Council doesn’t need to know what’s happened. If it becomes relevant, then Tony will tell them (and almost certainly get chewed out for keeping it from them in the first place), but for now, it isn’t relevant and they don’t need to know. 

What about the public, then? Will this all be kept on the down-low and not released to the media, or will he allow it to escape and for the public to learn that he’s taken guardianship of a teenager?

That one Tony answers immediately: he won’t let the public or the paparazzi find out about Peter. He’s sure his lawyers can work everything out without letting it get leaked, and he knows he’ll have to alert Peter’s school, but other than that, he won’t let the media or public know anything about Peter’s identity. Tony had to grow up with the media in his face and the whole world knowing his business, and he doesn’t want that for Peter. He’s not going to destroy the kid’s freedom — he’ll protect Peter from that however he can. 

He doesn’t move from where he’s sitting, Peter asleep snuggled into his chest, but eventually he drifts off into sleep, his arms still wrapped around the only kid in the world he would give anything to see happy, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

* * *

 

Tony wakes to a strange stiffness in his neck and warmth spread very unevenly over his front -- while his left side is smothered and warm, his right is freezing, and somehow both of his arms are cold. His toes also have that weird stuck-together feeling they get whenever he sleeps in socks, and he can immediately tell that there are weird creases pressed into the skin of his legs from sleeping in what are clearly work pants. 

As he opens his eyes, however, he’s reminded of the reason for his strange sleeping situation -- the first thing he sees is a mop of brown hair right under his own chin, and he feels a sudden surge of fondness for Peter, even if Tony did end up a little uncomfortable. 

Peter doesn’t seem to be awake yet, but Tony knows from experience that he won’t be getting back to sleep now no matter how hard he tries. Instead, he carefully extracts his Starkphone from his pocket (thank god it was in his front right pants pocket -- if it had been in any other he wouldn’t have been able to get to it without jostling Peter). With his left hand idly rubbing gentle circles on Peter’s back, he throws the display up in front of them and uses his right hand to start sorting through his emails. 

FRIDAY is silent -- he doesn’t ask her for anything, and he knows she’s smart enough to realize that Tony is quiet because Peter is still asleep, so she should be quiet too. After getting through all of his emails (which alone takes the better part of half an hour), Tony pulls up the schematics for some improvements to the Iron Man suit.

In the time that he spends working on that, using one hand to manipulate the blueprints and type in experimental codes, the light in the room gradually changes from the pale gray of just before dawn to the muted orange of sunrise, the glow from the window glinting off Peter’s hair and filling the room with warmth. 

While Tony is typing in some code to dictate instructions for when and how the system should draw on more power, a quiet, groggy voice breaks the silence. “It’d make more sense to reroute the power through the gauntlet first, wouldn’t it? It’d be more efficient.”

Tony blinks and looks down at Peter, whose eyes he can now see are squinted open as he stares at Tony’s work, which still hovers above both of them. Before Tony can fully recover from the surprise of the kid being awake -- and giving him some  _ really good advice  _ to boot -- Peter stiffens in his hold and sits up suddenly, spinning his head around to stare wide-eyed at Tony. 

“Oh my god. M-Mr. Stark I. I’m so sorry, I-I must have fallen asleep, I….what time is it?” He babbles, and FRIDAY answers before Tony can. 

“The current time is 6:23am.”

Peter’s eyes widen almost comically as his hands come up to grab his hair. “Did I sleep on you  _ all night _ ? M-Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry-”

“Whoa, kid, cool it,” Tony says, holding up a hand to placate him. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. If I had wanted to leave, I would have.” He has more to say, but he stops there for now, watching as Peter’s mouth drops open in blank shock. The kid blinks several times, taking a moment to wrap his head around what Tony just said. 

“I….uh….okay,” Peter finally says, shaking his head as if to clear it and staring at the space of bed between himself and Tony. 

“And call me Tony, okay, kid? We’re there,” Tony adds with a smile, watching Peter blink a couple times before the words click, and then his face lights up like the sun rising outside, and he nods. 

“O-Okay Tony!”

With a satisfied smile, Tony turns back to his schematics, looking at them for a moment before giving Peter a sideways glance. “Wanna come tell me that thing you said again? It sounded like it might have had some potential,” he says, trying and failing to keep his smile from widening as the kid brightens up all over again and hurries back over, sitting next to Tony and looking again at the Iron Man schematics and half-written code on the floating panels in front of them. 

And if he’s sitting closer than Tony usually allows anyone, then so what? The kid just lost his aunt -- Tony will do what he can to help him feel better, and if that involves physical proximity, then he finds that he doesn’t really mind. 

Tony doesn’t usually work with others -- Bruce and Stephen are exceptions, as he was impressed with their minds from the beginning. The two of them have always been able to effortlessly keep up with Tony, which is why they’re the only scientists he’s ever worked closely with, particularly in his own workshop. However, he’s surprised by how easy it is to work with Peter as well. The kid is wicked smart, and even when Tony decides to test him by throwing some intentionally bad ideas his way, Peter sees through it instantly --  _ but, Mr. St-- I mean, Tony -- that doesn’t make sense. Why would you want to do it that way? _ \-- and every time Tony just ruffles his hair and says “yeah, you’re right, kid,” and they move on. 

It’s nearing eight o’clock when their work is interrupted by the unmistakable sound of Peter’s stomach rumbling, then FRIDAY speaking. “Boss, the others are asking where you are, and they’ve made breakfast. They’d like for you to come join them.”

Tony looks over at Peter, whose eyes are wide as he works out just who “the others” must be if they’re making breakfast in the Avengers compound. “What do you say, kid? You up for some breakfast downstairs? We can always have it up here if you don’t feel up to it.”

Peter stares for a moment, then shakes his head. “No, let’s go downstairs! It’s the Avengers making breakfast right? The other ones? I saw on the news that Team Cap was back at the compound and working on signing the Accords themselves. Is that true? Is Captain America down there?” The words babble out of his mouth as he bounces off the bed and to his feet, bouncing on the balls of them as he looks around the room, suddenly seeming a little lost. 

Tony just chuckles, pointing to the door behind Peter. “Bathroom’s through there. There are some spare clothes in the drawers in here, but it’s mostly just SI t-shirts and sweats for now. You should be fine going down in that if you want,” he says, indicating Peter’s nerdy chemistry t-shirt and jeans combo. “There’s a toothbrush and hairbrush in the bathroom, and some shaving supplies, but you probably don’t need those, babyface.”

Peter chuckles at the good-natured quip, then looks down at himself, biting his lip. After a moment of silence, he turns around and steps to the chest of drawers, opening a couple drawers to pull out some clothes, then enters the bathroom. Once the door clicks closed behind him, Tony stretches his arms above his head, rotating his left at the shoulder. He places his feet on the floor and stands, continuing to stretch his whole body even as he starts talking to FRIDAY.

“FRIDAY, send an email to Peter’s principal. Explain what happened yesterday, and that he’s in my care and won’t be coming to school for a while,” he dictates, thinking through the days. Today is Thursday, and he’s not sure how long it will take him to arrange the funeral and all the legal guardianship paperwork, and he’s even less sure of how long it will take for Peter to feel up to going back to school. He doesn’t want to specify a return date just yet, so he figures it’s best to leave it vague for now. “If the school tries to contact me, make sure they’re legit and then send it straight to me.”

“Yes, Boss,” FRIDAY responds. “Email sent.”

At that moment, Peter exits the bathroom, dressed in a gray SI t-shirt and black sweatpants. He holds a bundle of clothes -- presumably the ones he had been wearing -- in his arms, but oddly. He holds them as far away from his body as he can, and his expression is tense. “Mr.-- I mean, Tony,” he begins, holding out the clothes. “Can we….get rid of these?”

His voice is quiet, but Tony doesn’t have to ask anything to understand. Those are the clothes Peter was wearing when he found out his aunt had died -- the ones he was wearing when he spent almost half an hour crying over her corpse. Tony steps forward and takes the bundle from Peter’s arms. “Consider it done, kiddo,” he says, and an unmistakable wave of relief passes over Peter’s face. 

They head out the door, and Tony pauses by a trash chute to deposit the clothes. First, he turns to Peter, an eyebrow raised. “Nothing you need in here? Phone? Wallet? Favorite pencil?” He asks, and Peter shakes his head. 

“Nope, I checked,” he replies, and Tony nods. 

“Good. Get the door for me?” Peter hurries to grab the handle and lift the door to the chute, and he watches as Tony drops the clothes in. The teen watches as they fall into the darkness, a weird tension on his face. “This goes to an incinerator,” Tony says, watching his expression. “Which is used to power our hot water heater. This is a LEED certified building, thank you very much.” 

To his relief, Peter looks up at him and smiles as he lets the trash chute door fall shut with a  _ whump _ . “Breakfast?” Tony prompts, gesturing Peter down the hall.

“Yeah,” Peter says with a nod, and the two of them walk together down the hallway to the elevator, which automatically takes them down to the common living area. Tony keeps one hand on Peter’s left shoulder as he walks on the kid’s right, guiding him out of the elevator and to the kitchen, where he can hear the ruckus of the rest of the Avengers already there. 

When they walk in, Steve is the first to notice them, and he sets down his spatula and moves forward, extending a hand. “You must be Spiderman,” he says, but Tony is already distracted. 

“Is that an  _ apron? _ ” He asks, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead in incredulity as he takes in the words  _ Kiss the Cook _ spread across Captain America’s chest.

“Well, yes,” Steve replies, blinking, and behind him, Clint and Sam both snort into their cups of coffee. 

Tony opens his mouth to tease Steve some more, but the garbled noise from his left has him remembering Peter. “Y-You’re...oh my god,” Peter stammers, seemingly unable to move. 

“Call me Steve,” the captain says kindly, holding out a hand. Peter shakes it, looking shocked as he glances around at the rest of the room, his eyes widening comically as he takes in the rest of the Avengers. 

“Pop quiz,” Tony says, sensing that the kid might get overwhelmed if everyone throws themselves at him at once like a bunch of animals. “Name everyone in the room.”

“Alias or real name?” Peter asks immediately, looking over at Tony, who shrugs. 

“Whatever you know.”

Peter faces the room again and begins pointing. “Steve Rogers, or Captain America. Clint Barton, Hawkeye. Sam uh...sorry, don’t know your last name. Falcon. Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. Bruce Banner, the Hulk. Vision. Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch. Tony Stark, Iron Man. Peter Parker, Spiderman.” He finishes by pointing at Tony and then himself, looking up to his mentor when he’s done. 

Tony ruffles his hair, chuckling. “No introductions necessary. Good job, kid. Wilson’s last name doesn’t matter anyway,” he says, ignoring the indignant scoff that comes from over by the coffee pot. 

“Besides, what’s much more important right now is Cap’s fashion choice. You know that no matter how good your omelettes are, I’m not gonna kiss you, Cap,” Tony continues, stepping further into the room and taking one of the empty seats at the table. Peter follows and sits next to him, and Clint comes up and pulls out the chair on Peter’s other side. Tony doesn’t say anything — he has a bit of a feeling that Clint and Peter will get along well.

“I knew you were young, kid, but I didn’t think you were this young. Have you even got your braces off yet?” Sam asks, stepping up behind Peter and leaning forward to squint at him. “Oh man, you’re not still in middle school are you?”

“I’m fifteen!” Peter says indignantly, as if he truly believes that  _ fifteen _ is something that could be considered anywhere near adulthood. “I’m in high school! And I mean, I did  _ have  _ braces for a while a few years ago, but they’ve been off for ages now!”

Sam only laughs, Clint joining in. “You remind me of my kids,” Clint says, reaching out and ruffling the back of Peter’s hair. “They still get so excited every time they lose a tooth.”

Peter only blinks at him, and Tony takes pity on the kid and cuts in. “Barton’s only teasing,” he says easily, patting Peter on the shoulder. “We all know you got your last adult tooth last week.”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter says, sounding horrified, but when Tony meets his eyes there’s a spark there that he hasn’t seen since yesterday. 

“Call me Tony, kid,” Tony reminds him as he turns away, and Peter nods, muttering a response, almost as if he’s talking to himself more than Tony.

“Right. Tony, got it. Tony.”

Steve interjects, standing over the stove and finishing the eggs. “So what brings you here, Peter? Don’t you have school?”

Tony can feel Peter tense next to him, and he knows that the kid is probably looking to him on what to say, or else just internally freaking out at having to talk about his aunt so soon and probably ruin this easy, happy atmosphere. Tony replies easily, waving a hand flippantly. 

“Not important. I pulled him out to discuss some things with him.” It’s a flimsy excuse, but it’ll hold until he can fill the rest of the Avengers in on the situation in private and away from Peter. Tony brought him down here to provide a distraction, not a bunch of semi-dysfunctional superheroes pitying him and offering empty words of comfort.

“School is important, though, isn’t it?” Steve pushes, and Tony gives him a look over his red sunglasses, communicating without words:  _ I’ll tell you the rest later. Drop it. _ He knows the others notice, too, because no one questions it when they move on without addressing Steve’s question. 

“Anyway, food’s ready,” Steve says, bringing a pan of eggs and full plate of bacon over to the table, where he sets them down to allow everyone easy access. Peter glances to Tony as the others start reaching to serve themselves, and Tony makes a ‘help yourself’ gesture with his hand, smiling to himself as he watches Peter serve himself. Apparently it’s not good enough, though, as Clint shakes his head and piles more food on, saying “come on, I know you’re tryna be polite, kid, but when I was your age I ate like a bull, and I’m not even enhanced like you are. Take what you want.”

“Hey Peter,” Sam says after a couple minutes. “You play videogames at all?”

Peter scoffs seemingly automatically. “Of course,” he says. 

“Wanna help me kick Clint’s ass in Mario Party after this?”

“Now wait a minute-” Clint speaks up, but Peter’s already sitting up straight and nodding. 

“I love Mario Party! Which one?”

And the conversation devolves into some nerdy game talk that Tony doesn’t try to follow, but he watches Peter interact with the Avengers, still polite and very clearly starstruck, but rapidly opening up. And when he looks around at the rest of his team, Tony sees every single one of them falling for Peter -- by the end of the day they’ll all be wrapped around his little finger, and he won’t even know it.

An hour later, Tony’s leaning against the kitchen table listening to the sounds of Peter apparently rinsing everyone in everything they play as Steve finishes up the dishes -- Peter offered to do them all, of course, and it had nearly become Battle of the Manners until Clint and Sam dragged Peter away to go play games. Tony is glad for it; he brought Peter down here so he could get out of his own head, have some fun. He’s glad Peter is already feeling up to it and clearly enjoying himself. 

“He’s a good kid,” Steve says from where he’s now leaning against the sink, looking through the doorway and into the bit of the den that they can see -- from Tony’s vantage point, he can see Peter, Sam, and Clint on the couch, each with a controller in their hands and focused on the screen. 

“Yeah, he is,” Tony agrees, watching as Peter jumps up from the couch, apparently beating the other two in that minigame or level or whatever it was -- Clint and Sam both groan, but they’re barely hiding grins of their own, because that’s just the effect Peter seems to have on people. 

“Why is he really here?” Steve asks, and Tony sighs, looking away from Peter and down at his feet, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“His aunt died,” he says honestly. “Nothing related to Spiderman -- it was a car accident. But his parents died when he was a kid, and his aunt and uncle took him in. His uncle was shot a year ago. He didn’t have anyone left.”

Steve sighs, crossing his own arms as he looks at Tony, who stares resolutely through the doorway to where Peter is smiling and laughing at his own success. “So you took him in,” Steve says, and Tony turns to him, a challenge in his eyes. 

“Do you think I shouldn’t have? What, should I have just left him to be sent to live with some random foster family?”

“No, Tony, I never said that,” Steve replies calmly, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I think it’s good that you took him in. Are you going to tell the others?”

Tony shrugs, looking back to Peter, whose tongue pokes out of his mouth just a bit as he concentrates on the screen. “Yeah, you all need to know. I don’t care who tells them, though -- you can, if you want. Just not in front of Peter yet. He’s still in shock, I think.”

Steve nods, and Tony continues, flapping a hand dismissively. “Besides, I’m sure everyone will know by sundown once we start spreading the word. It’s impossible to keep secrets in this place, you filthy blathermouths,” he rolls his eyes, but there’s no bite in his words, and Steve laughs, clapping Tony on the shoulder as he steps toward the door.

“You don’t need to worry, Tony,” he says quietly. “He’s a great kid. I can tell that all of us, me included, are going to love him.”

“Who said I was worried?” Tony retorts automatically, but he avoids Steve’s eyes, his arms still crossed. Cap can be bullheaded at times, yes, but for the most part he’s a good friend and a good leader, and he knows Tony well. It can be kind of annoying, but he’s found that this is better than the alternative they came to in Siberia. 

“No one did,” Cap says, shaking his head and leaving the kitchen, hanging that stupid apron on a hook as he goes. Tony shakes his head and follows the man out into the den, where Peter jumps up, apparently having just won the game. 

“No fair! I call cheating!” Sam shouts, while Clint groans loudly and Peter throws both his arms over his head in celebration. 

“Nope, he’s just a prodigy. He gets it from me, you’re welcome,” Tony chimes in, and the grin he gets from Peter is wide and genuine. As Peter turns back to try in vain to comfort Clint’s damaged ego, Tony thinks of how incredible it is that he can smile like that so soon. But then again, he knows that everyone’s forms of grief are different, and often it rides like a horrible, gut-wrenching, life-destroying rollercoaster, with many ups and downs. Tony’s sure, in that moment, that there will be many low points for Peter as he grieves and adjusts to a new life, but as he watches Steve and Clint laugh as Sam gives the kid a noogie, he knows that he won’t be alone in helping Peter get through this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there's the second chapter! peter has officially met most of the other avengers now, though i hate that i couldnt include more of the others. but don't worry, we'll see more of them in the future, i promise! thor is not there because i havent really decided what im doing with him yet, and rhodey is off on a military mission at the moment but will return in due time! 
> 
> i wanted to include more in this chapter, but there's a lot here already, even if it is mostly fluff and domestic!avengers (which i am. so weak for oh my gosh). i definitely wanted to get peter introduced to everyone, and i wanted to explore steve and tony's relationship a bit! to be clear, this fic will NOT include stony, or any past!stony, either. i dont have any real issue with the ship (honestly ship whatever you want) but i personally dont think they as a ship could have fully survived what happened in civil war. this fic does take place after civil war, but tony and steve are trying to mend their friendship, even if there are some deep wounds that'll take more than a few months to heal. 
> 
> ANYWAY sorry for that tangent. i know this is going up just two days after the first chapter, but i honestly already had this halfway written when i posted the first chapter, and tbqh i dont have any of chapter 3 written yet, so you can probably expect a bit more of a wait before that! i know myself as a person and therefore know i will not be able to stick to any sort of regular update schedule, so im sorry in advance for that! 
> 
> finally, all of your comments made my weekend, honestly. every comment i read made me smile like an idiot, and my goal is to reply to every one of them! i love getting feedback from you guys, and i'm so happy you're enjoying this story so far!
> 
> im on tumblr at [naxyoung](http://www.naxyoung.tumblr.com/) so feel free to stop in and say hi! (i'm ridiculously multifandom so i apologize in advance)

**Author's Note:**

> and that's the first chapter! hopefully i succeeded in setting up the relationships, and we see that tony and stephen already know each other?? interesting.....
> 
> i have a rough outline already planned, and im currently working on chapter 2! you can expect quite a bit more fluff on its way because ive seen iw three times and need some comfort okay. 
> 
> please comment with your thoughts! i'd love to hear what everyone thinks of this, and especially what you think of how im writing the characters so far! im so nervous about writing tony because i feel like he's one of those characters who's really easy to get wrong, so let me know what you think, and i'll see you in the next chapter!
> 
> p.s. im on tumblr @naxyoung so please come check me out there and feel free to shoot me a message! just a warning: this work isn't currently planned to have iw spoilers (i'll tag it properly if that changes) but my tumblr is full of them!


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